


At Last

by Tennyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amara does that control thing to Dean, Bottom Castiel, Bottoming from the Top, Cas doesn't like it, Destiel Reverse Bang 2016, Feelings, Kissing, M/M, Season/Series 11, canon compliant through at least ep 16, nobody likes it, show-level violence and blood, they watch some Sense8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6416830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Tennyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they almost lose Castiel in defeating Amara, certain emotions finally come to the surface for Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Destiel Reverse Bang](http://destielrb.livejournal.com/).  
> Art by the WONDERFUL SastMK (LJ)/ [fightacrosstheconstellation](http://fightacrosstheconstellation.tumblr.com/post/142022695522/part-of-the-destiel-reverse-bang-2016-author) (tumblr)/ [OutOfLuck](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6410197) (AO3)
> 
> All the thanks to Wendy for being my Beta, and my friends in chat who encouraged me when I was halfway through.
> 
> Hold on tight folks, I've been told this fic generates Feelings. (chest-feelings for the first chapter, pants-feelings for the second chapter)
> 
> Can the show, at least for the first chapter, really happen this way? I have money. I can raise money. 
> 
> If I've missed a tag you think I should add, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Dean and Sam carefully navigated the factory ruins, stepping around a pile of rubble. Sam had a long, thin package wrapped in cloth tucked under his arm, and Dean held an angel blade in one hand, a gun in the other. Together they kept an eye out for trouble as they made their way to the designated meeting spot. It was a gamble trusting that Lucifer would find a way to lure Amara here, but it was a chance they would have to take.

Once they reached the middle of the cracked parking lot in the back, they waited. Sam held out the long parcel and unwrapped it to reveal the Spear of Destiny, or at least the tip that had been housed at the Men of Letters bunker, with a new handle attached to it. Dean thought about what led up to this moment, the conversation with Chuck, or God.

He’d wanted to punch the bastard when he randomly showed up, acting like he wasn’t responsible for this whole mess in the first place. And then he’d had the nerve to ask why they hadn’t used the stupid spear, which honestly Dean had forgotten about after going through inventory after they’d moved into the bunker. Chuck, God, whoever, had left some cryptic message about Cas being the key before poofing off again without any more explanation. What was that supposed to mean anyway? Cas still had Lucifer in him, and he refused to kick the bastard out until Amara was dealt with. How was he the key to anything?

Grumbling, Dean crossed his arms and watched Sam practice a couple of jabs with the holy relic speartip jammed onto the end of an old broom handle. Sam was going to have to be the one to do the deed, because Amara would be able to do some trick to make Dean stop. He couldn’t wait to sever the damn connection he had with her, it was like a constant feeling of being violated.

They waited for over an hour, and the sun was getting lower in the sky. Finally, Lucifer showed up wearing Cas, strolling up with his hands in his pockets. Dean clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists as Lucifer looked at the spear with admiration. He reached out for it, but Sam yanked it back, giving Dean a look. Dean stepped forward and took the spear from Sam.

“Keep your grubby hands off of this, you bastard,” he growled.

Hands held up in surrender, Lucifer grinned. “Ooh, someone’s a little tense. Don’t worry, Deanie boy, I was just curious is all. Wanted to see what you guys would be using on auntie dearest.”

Seeing Lucifer use Cas’ body, making faces Cas would never make, turned Dean’s stomach. Lucifer shrugged and put on a bored air and turned away. ‘ _I’m going to save you, Cas, I promise_ ,’ Dean silently prayed. Pausing mid-step, Lucifer's back straightened, and he turned on his heel to face Dean.

“Aww, the widdle human thinks he can get Cassie wassie to change his mind.” Lucifer made a mocking pout. “That’s so cute. Tell me Dean, what do you think you could actually say to my little brother to get him to change his mind?” He clasped his hands together. “Especially since it’s partially your fault he said yes in the first place?”

Hands tightening around the spear’s handle, Dean couldn’t help but feel the sting of those words, voicing thoughts he’d been having himself. That if he’d just done something different, hell, one hundred somethings different, he wouldn’t be staring at Lucifer using Cas’ face.

“Cas, please.” Dean could feel his throat tighten, and the telltale burn behind his eyes. Dammit, he would not give Lucifer the satisfaction of seeing him cry over this. “Don’t give up on yourself, man. I haven’t given up on you.” He managed to grate out the words.

With a sly grin, Lucifer patted Dean’s shoulder. “Should have thought of that before you made the poor boy feel expendable.” He turned away and spoke over his shoulder. “Your loss, my gain.”

Lucifer stood in the middle of the parking lot, old parking lines faded, dead weeds coming up between the cracks, and held his arms out at his sides as he chanted something in what almost sounded like Enochian. He continued chanting for a full minute, maybe two, before Amara appeared before him, curiosity on her face.

“You’re the one my brother has punished,” she said with wide-eyed curiosity, “and managed to create his own kingdom in the process.”

Lucifer preened at her words while she examined him. “Why have you summoned me here? Do you have a way to reach my brother?” she asked.

“Oh, Daddy’s always been a little fickle about his appearances. I was thinking we should team up together.” Lucifer’s tone was cajoling.

“You double crossing son of a bitch!” Dean felt rage sweep through him, and he rushed towards Amara, spear in hand.

“Dean, no!” Sam called out, but Dean was lost to his emotions as he closed in on her.

Unfortunately, the hold she had on him made him stop in his tracks two feet away from his target. Dean couldn’t move, he just stared, horrified, as Amara looked him up and down before easily brushing the spear aside and stepping up into Dean’s space. He felt her proximity affect him, trying to melt away everything but that one feeling that had been described as bliss. He struggled to hold onto his anger, his shame. But part of him wanted to give in. That part that wanted to stop feeling, years ago, begged him to stop fighting her.

“Oh, Dean.” Amara smiled, reached up and traced her fingers along his jaw. “I told you I am impossible to resist.” Dean watched as her eyes focus on his mouth, and she brushed his bottom lip with her thumb. “We will be together, very soon. It is the inevitable conclusion of our bond.”

Amara tilted her head up, and pressed her lips to Dean’s. The feeling intensified, and he could feel his resolution slip. As much as he tried to focus on how it was being forced, his body still reacted to the kiss, leaning toward her and parting lips to deepen the connection. One small, feeble protest flared at the back of his mind.

Dean didn’t notice the way Castiel’s vessel doubled over, hands clenched in his hair, or the struggle as Lucifer tried to subdue the owner of his body. His ears barely registered the shout as Cas took over, and rushed to where they stood. He did notice the spear being wrenched from his hand, and how at the same moment Amara stopped kissing him. Dazed, Dean looked up to see Cas, actually _Cas_ , twirling the spear in preparation to attack Amara.

Blinking, Dean stumbled back and watched as Cas tried to run her through, only to have her use her power to brush the tip of the holy weapon aside, and yank it from Cas’ grasp. With an unamused pout, she flipped the weapon around, and jammed it into Cas’ gut. While still unable to move, Dean could hear himself call out for Cas, a sharp pain in his chest overwhelming the blissful daze Amara had placed over him.

“No!”

Amara turned to face Dean with a triumphant look. “Nothing can separate us,” she said.

Tearing his eyes away, Dean looked at Cas. Face contorted in pain, Cas gripped the handle of the spear and pulled. As the bloodied blade retracted from his wound, Dean could see a strange golden glow emanating from the surface. After a brief glance at Dean, Cas focused on Amara, mouth turned down into a scowl, eyes angry slits.

“You!” He called out.

With a look of surprise, Amara turned to see Cas once again pointing the spear at her. Dean couldn’t see the look on her face when Cas successfully ran her through, but he could hear Cas growl in her ear, “ _Our_ bond is much more profound.”

Cas stumbled back a couple of steps, and Dean saw golden light engulf around Amara. Wind began swirling around her, and clouds formed overhead, circling as if a tornado was going to spontaneously generate. A bolt of blue-white lightning struck the ground between Dean and where Amara and Cas stood.

“Get away!” Cas yelled, and with a flick of Cas’ wrist, Dean found himself standing next to Sam as they shielded their eyes from the debris the increasing winds generated. The swirling mass of clouds overhead thickened and grew dark, with more bolts of lightning striking the ground around Amara and Cas.

Above them, the dark clouds took on a funnel shape, and reached down towards Amara. All Dean could think about was the fact that Cas was still in the middle of the maelstrom, and he needed to get out. He tried to rush back in that direction, but Sam held him back, arms locked around him as he struggled to get back to Cas, to do _something_.

The funnel cloud reached Amara, and the light grew blinding, both brothers turning away with their arms over their eyes. With the sound of a freight train in their ears from the wind, Sam pushed Dean down onto the cracked pavement, partially covering his brother’s body with his own.

Dean didn’t know how long they stayed like that, arms over their heads, praying for Cas to be okay, before the blinding light and wind died down. Pushing Sam off of him, Dean scrambled up and turned around to find a circular patch of ground scoured of pavement, with Cas collapsed in the center. Without thinking, Dean rushed to his side, Sam calling out to be careful behind him.

Cas was face down, covered in dirt and debris, and not moving. Dean quickly flipped him over and inspected the bloody wound left behind by the spear. Wisps of angelic grace seeped from the jagged - but not as large as he thought it should be - hole, and Dean placed one hand over it while cradling Cas’ face.

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispered, his voice uneven, “Don’t die on me. You promised me you’d never do that again.”

With a groan, Cas’ face contorted in pain, and Dean let out a relieved breath. He was alive. Sam called out, getting his attention. “Dean! Be careful, we still don’t know what happened to Lucifer.”

The reality of the situation smacked Dean in the face as he looked down at the man - angel - whoever was lying on the ground at the moment. Shit, Lucifer was able to fool them for a while, how were they supposed to tell who was in charge now? While Dean sat there doubting, Cas let out another groan, his face pressing into the warmth of Dean’s hand. Dean’s heart felt like it was doing somersaults when blue eyes squinted up at him.

“Did…” Cas’ voice rasped out, “did we get her?”

A little sob of a laugh escaping him, Dean slid his hand from Cas’ face and down to the nape of his neck, giving him a squeeze. “Yeah, I think we got her.”

Watching every grunt and expression, Dean helped Cas into a sitting position. He removed his hand from the wound on Cas’ stomach, and noticed the little wisps of grace had stopped seeping out. He wasn’t even bleeding that much now.

Were angels supposed to heal this fast after getting stabbed with a holy relic? Was he healing too slow? Did it mean Lucifer was still riding shotgun, or was it just Cas in there? With a little nervous cough, Dean leaned down to look into Cas’ eyes. “You gotta tell me the truth. Who’s in charge right now?”

Cas let out a breath, and blinked slowly. Dean was so afraid to see someone else behind the blue when he opened them again, but they look the same. “It’s just me, Dean. I was able to cast Lucifer out when Amara was…” Cas frowned, “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I saw her engulfed with light and then was taken… somewhere else.”

Something inside Dean loosened, and there was hope in his voice. “And Lucifer?”

Cas locked eyes with Dean and replied, “He appeared to be taken wherever Amara was sent.”

Dean’s shoulders sagged, he let out a long breath, and rested his forehead on Cas’ shoulder. “You dumb son of a bitch, why’d you go and say yes to Lucifer?”

Turning his head away, Cas said, “Because I’m expendable.”

It was like a sucker punch to the gut, and Dean straightened. Expendable? How could Cas think he was expendable? “What the hell, Cas? Who gave you that idea? You’re important, to both me and Sam.” He looked up at his brother, who was still keeping his distance, just in case.

Sam nodded. “Dean’s right, we kept looking for a way to save you.”

Cas stared down at his lap. “But, after all I’ve done. All my mistakes. I’m not even a proper angel anymore. You,” He looked up at Dean, and then Sam, “You’re the real heroes. I’m just…” His face scrunched up, and he ducked his head down, eyes cast back at the ground. “I’m just a tool,” he whispered.

Heart thudding in his chest, suddenly Dean remembered all the times he might have given Cas that idea: When he’d only call Cas because they needed something. And how could he forget kicking Cas out of the bunker? It didn’t matter why he’d done it, the fact was he’d chosen protecting Sam over keeping newly-human Cas safe. It had resulted in Cas dying again, too.

He’d tried so hard after that, but everything happening at the time really did a number on him. The Mark of Cain had also made him a different person. After releasing the Darkness, Dean had made an effort, especially after what Rowena’s spell had done, but… it was easier to just close off emotionally, especially after losing Charlie, and after finding out that Amara had some kind of… thrall over him. It was all too much, and even with Sam there, they just didn’t know how to take care of other people that weren’t Sam or Dean. Dean had to find a way to fix this.

“Cursed or not, remember? We’re family, and family don’t give up on each other. We need you, Cas. I… I need you.” Dean could feel his throat closing up at the words, remembering the last time he uttered them, and he pressed his forehead to Cas’. “I want you to stay,” he whispered.

Cas tilted his head up, causing their noses to brush. Blue eyes filled with hope looked back at him. “Why, Dean?” His voice was soft, almost as if he was afraid to ask. “Why do you want me to stay?”

Swallowing, Dean closed his eyes and let out a breath. All the complicated things he felt for Cas bubbled forward, and he couldn’t put a name on it. Oh, there was a word, but it didn’t seem enough for all that he felt. Cas was family, he was special, there was the _bond_. But it was more than that. It was the way they always looked at each other, the way they always seemed to gravitate toward each other, even when Dean tried to push back against their connection.

But after everything, all the trials, and apocalypses, and the deaths, Dean was tired of fighting it. Yeah, there would more than likely be some world-ending catastrophe on the horizon tomorrow, but today they had won. And if he could just manage to give Cas one reason, he might stay. He wanted to stay. Didn’t he?

While Dean wasn’t always the best at expressing emotions with words, he was a man of action. So after taking a deep breath, he cupped Cas’ face with his hands, and pulled back enough to get a good look at the angel. The hope in his eyes was rapidly being exchanged with worry, so Dean tilted his head and went for it.

The first brush of lips caused Cas to jump in surprise, and if Dean hadn’t been holding on, they would have separated. But Dean dove right back in, pressing their mouths firmly together. This time, Cas made a small noise in the back of his throat and sighed. Tingling exploded through Dean’s nerve endings as both joy and relief swept through him. While he’d had the feeling Cas was kinda into him, the kiss was a risk. Cas clung to Dean’s jacket, pulling him closer as they kissed, nothing more than mouths pressed together at the moment, but it felt like a revelation.

The sound of a boot scraping across crumbling pavement snapped Dean out of the moment, and he pulled back to see Sam with his back to them, head ducked and doing something on his phone. Glancing back at Cas, Dean saw his eyes were still closed, mouth slightly parted, lips pink. The corner of his own mouth curled up at the sight.

Slowly, Cas opened his eyes, and looked back at Dean with wonder. “Dean?” He breathed.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Is this real? It’s not Lucifer torturing me?”

The grip Cas had on Dean’s jacket tightened, as his eyes filled with panic. Oh God, what had Cas gone through, trapped in his own body with the Devil? Dean wrapped his arms around Cas tightly, rocking him from side to side, breathing reassurances into his hair.

“I got you, buddy. You’re safe now.”

Cas trembled, and Dean began rubbing soothing circles into his back through the layers of trenchcoat, jacket, and shirt. “You said yourself you kicked his ass out, right?” Cas nodded into Dean’s shoulder. “Well, there you go.” He combed the fingers of one hand through Cas’ hair, continuing to reassure the angel in his arms.

Placing a kiss to Cas’ temple, Dean whispered, “It’s okay,” kissed his cheekbone, “You’re safe,” and tilted his head to place his lips on an eyelid, “I got you.” He kept repeating the words, planting featherlight kisses across Castiel’s face. When he kissed the corner of Cas’ mouth, Cas turned into it and captured his lips. Releasing the grip on his jacket, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed him desperately. It was messy and their teeth scraped, so Dean grasped Cas’ face again to steady him a bit.

It struck him then, just what was happening. He was kissing Cas, and Cas was kissing back. They both wanted this. Somewhere nearby was Sam, trying to not look. It was more than a little embarrassing, but not enough to make him stop. He did, however, feel tears start to well, and he let them fall, because Cas was more important right now.

Sam clearing his throat loudly caused them to break apart, and he announced that they should probably leave before anyone curious about the strange weather decided to come and investigate. Dean helped Cas stand, and it seemed the wound in his stomach had at least closed over enough to stop bleeding. Good thing, too, because he wasn’t sure how to explain that one to a hospital.

Dean kept a hand on Cas, helping him out of the hole in the pavement, but as soon as they reached Sam, Cas was engulfed in a crushing hug. He could hear Cas apologizing, and Sam saying something close to Cas’ ear. Feeling a little awkward, but with a surge of familial pride that he knew Sam didn’t have a problem with… whatever he and Cas were now, Dean waited for the hug to break apart with hearty back pats and a firm grip on Cas’ shoulder by Sam as he led him to the car.

They reached the bunker after nightfall, and stumbled down the stairs wearily. It had been difficult to drive while wanting to keep an eye on Cas, but Dean had to keep some of his masculine dignity and drive himself. Sam understood, and didn’t even bother to offer to swap places.

Without thinking, they dropped their bags off at the map table, and headed to the kitchen for a beer. Cas accepted a bottle, and they sat at the table in silence, feeling the day’s events settle in. About halfway through his beer, Sam asked, “Hey, Cas? Is there any way we can tell if Lucifer really got sent away with Amara, or if whatever happened means she’s really gone?”

Cas rolled his still mostly full bottle between his hands. “It’s difficult to say. While I saw what happened, I don’t know if I understand what I saw. Is there someone who might know where they went? Perhaps only my Father could tell us that.”

Snorting, Dean took another sip of his beer. “Good luck with that. We got lucky enough he stopped by long enough to tell us about the spear.” Dean also thought about how he’d mentioned that Cas was the key, but he was too tired to get into that conversation right then. A swipe through his hair turned up a small twig.

“I dunno about you guys,” Dean finished off his beer. “But I want to take a long, hot shower, and go pass out.”

Cas nodded, eyes downturned. “Yes, of course, Dean.” Sam’s forehead got that concerned crinkle thing, and looked between the two of them. Before he could be dragged into some kind of discussion about feelings and shit, Dean made his way down the hallway.

How was he supposed to act around Cas now? Should he have offered a space in his bed? Face reddening at the thought, Dean quickly gathered a change of clothes and a towel, and headed to the showers. Sam could babysit the angel for one damn night, give him time to get whatever the hell this was straight in his head by morning. With a thought about how “straight” didn’t seem to apply to him anymore, Dean banished all that as he turned on the shower and quickly stripped down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halfway fluff, halfway smut.  
> Enjoy the thing.

The next morning, Dean woke way too early, but he couldn’t go back to sleep. That’s what he got for going to bed at old-man-o’clock, he thought as he stretched his limbs before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He hadn’t eaten anything last night, and his stomach protested with a rumble. “Time to go see if there’s any leftovers,” he said to himself.

Wrapped up in his familiar Men of Letters robe, Dean shuffled into the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee, and began rummaging through the fridge. Something green in a foil container stared back up at him, and he tossed it back in with a scowl. At least they had bread. Maybe some peanut butter would help sustain him long enough until he could go get some takeout.

The coffee was ready by the time he’d slapped together a couple PB&J sandwiches, and it wasn’t until he was halfway through his second cup of coffee when he realized he didn’t know where Cas was. Something constricted in his chest, and Dean went looking in the places he most expected to find the angel.

He wasn’t in the library, and he couldn’t be found in the store-room, either. Nervous, Dean checked all the spare bedrooms, only to find them empty. On his way back from the shooting range, Dean heard the heavy front door slam closed. Heart thudding, he skidded to a stop as he saw Cas coming down the spiral staircase with two armloads of grocery bags. Cas didn’t even stop as he headed for the kitchen, giving Dean a small smile.

“Hello, Dean.”

Taking a deep breath, he followed Cas into the kitchen and helped him put away groceries. Cas took it upon himself to make sure the Winchesters kept themselves fed, so went to the 24 hour super Walmart up in Hastings. The whole time they put things away, Dean found himself making excuses to touch Cas. A hand on the small of his back as he directed him to the pantry, fingers brushing a shoulder to get his attention when he was about to place something on the wrong shelf. Unsure just how they were supposed to proceed with their relationship, Dean reveled in the small touches.

After, Dean decided to fry a couple of eggs, so he pulled out a pan. Cas watched him cook, and then eat his eggs with another cup of coffee. It was still early enough that Sam wasn’t awake yet when he finished. Caffeinated and fed, Dean leaned back and tried to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.

“Sorry about last night,” Dean started, toying with his empty coffee mug.

“No, it’s fine,” Cas said. “I’ve grown accustomed to your moods, and Sam spent some time trying to explain how you deal with emotion.”

Dean scrubbed the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh. “This coming from Captain Constipated.”

Without commenting, Cas picked up Dean’s mug and placed it in the sink. Then he turned to face Dean and leaned against the counter. “Do you have any plans today?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

Plans? Other than eat, sleep, maybe do some work on Baby? “We just saved the world, _again_. No I don’t have any plans. What, you wanna go to Disneyland or something?”

Cas bit the inside of his lip, looked down and to the side. “I have been interested in catching up on some new shows on the Netflix. I was wondering,” he glanced up at Dean, “if you might want to start one with me?”

He’d seen that look before with others, and knew what it meant. If he was right, Cas was in his own way, asking Dean out. Luckily, Dean _has_ had practice with this game. “You thinking of some Netflix and Chill?” He put on his flirtiest smirk.

Cas got that look like he was analyzing what Dean said before he replied, “I’m assuming you would like to relax while watching television?”

“Close enough,” Dean replied, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Where are you set up?”

“I have the laptop in the library, but you might like somewhere more comfortable.”

Nodding, Dean stood. “Get the power cable, find the outlet next to my bed. I’ll make popcorn, be right there.”

With an utter look of happiness, Cas nodded and left the kitchen. As dean put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, it hit him. Everything that happened between them yesterday, the _kisses_ . Holy shit, they were really going to try and have a relationship, him and Cas. And Cas was waiting in his bedroom. His _bedroom_. Shit, shit, shit. What did he expect? What if—

The microwave beeping distracted Dean from his thoughts, and he pulled out the popped bag. After pouring it into a bowl, he grabbed a couple beers and headed toward his room. On his way across the warroom, Sam emerged from the hallway, hair a mess and yawning. His brows scrunched together at the sight of Dean’s food choices, and he gave Dean an incredulous look.

“Popcorn and beer? Really?”

Immediately defensive, Dean slipped by him and said, “Breakfast of champions, Sammy. Gonna hole up for a while, catch up on some TV.” With that, he scurried to his room and shut the door. Sam had already seen them kiss, so why was Dean so nervous?

Dean cleared his throat and opened his eyes to see Cas on the bed, propped up on the headboard with his jackets and shoes off, the laptop open and resting on his stretched-out legs. His face was suffused with contentment as he said, “I was thinking of starting Sense8. Does that sound good to you?”

Dean didn’t even know what Sense8 was, and said so. As he approached the bed, Cas grabbed the bowl of popcorn. “It’s about a group of people who share a psychic bond. I don’t know much more than that, but the internet is full of people that seem to enjoy it.”

Settling down on the bed, Dean bumped shoulders with Cas. “You wanna watch a show about people with a special _bond_ , huh?”

Cas gave him a blank look before hitting Play on the first episode. It seemed like an interesting TV show, and there was a kinda hot lesbian scene that piqued his interest. Dean found himself getting into it, trying to figure things out like it was a case. When the episode ended, he realized he’d only had a couple sips of his beer.

“Do you like it?” Cas asked, his head tilted to the side.

Damn, if that wasn’t kind of adorable. “Not bad,” Dean replied, taking a sip of his not-so-cold beer.

The second episode started automatically, and they settled in while the credits rolled. He found it interesting that they were able to shoot on location for so many places. Must have been an expensive series to make. There was the lesbian couple again, right off the bat. Wait, trans-lesbian couple? He stopped thinking about it before his head started hurting.

The cop’s childhood had him feeling a touch of nostalgia, well, the getting out of handcuffs part anyway. He wasn’t that interested in the Bollywood-like dance scene, but Cas seemed to dig it, so he spent most of it watching Cas, the corner of his mouth twitching up. When Dean got caught, Cas explained, “I find it fascinating how their culture combines traditional and modern elements into their entertainment.”

With a nod, Dean turned back to the screen. There seemed no dearth of sex in the series, which he was cool with, and it was interesting how there were little connections between all eight of the people it focused on. And then there was Lito. Discovering that he had a male lover was a bit of a shock for Dean, but he got distracted by the character’s figure in his underwear. By the time the scene between the two men ended, Dean didn’t even realized he’d tensed up until Cas paused the show and turned to him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean could feel his own pounding heart, erect cock tenting his shorts under his robe. “Uh, yeah.” His voice came out raspy.

Brow furrowed, lips parted, Cas asked, “Did that part bother you?”

“Uh, depends on your definition of bothered, Cas.”

With a sigh, Cas turned bodily to face him. “You, I don’t… expect anything from you, Dean. I know you identify as heterosexual, so I am content to simply remain your friend if that is what you wish.”

Oh, that was kind of a low blow. Dean turned to him and got up close, noticing  Cas glance down at his lips. Yeah, that’s what he thought. “And there’s really nothing you want for yourself?” He let the tone of his voice go sultry.

“Dean,” Cas breathed. There was so much meaning in that one word, and he loved hearing it on Cas’ lips.

He got closer, until they were practically sharing breath. “Say my name again, Cas.”

“Dean.” Cas’ voice dipped gravelly low, and Dean felt breath across his lips from it.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean whispered, biting his lip.

Leaning forward, Cas kissed him. It was passionate, and he loved it. TV show abandoned, Dean reached over to close the laptop and push it aside. The next thing he knew, Cas was straddling him and had his hands in Dean’s hair, curling Dean’s toes with his kiss. Damn, was he getting the full Pizzaman? And yes, he’d wondered about what kind of kiss it was that could wow a demon.

When Cas pulled away, Dean was gasping. Hands holding onto the back of Cas’ shirt, he rested his forehead on Cas’ chest. Each gulp of air brought the scent of angel deep into his lungs. It was still hard for him to believe he was allowed to have this.

Having caught his breath, Dean slid his hands down to grab a couple handfuls of ass, pulling Cas down so he could feel how much he was wanted right then, Dean’s erection having become a little more insistent during the kiss. The sound of Cas moaning, and the feel of the angel’s cock straining against the fly of his slacks had Dean unbuttoning Cas’ shirt to get at more of him.

As he peeled the clothing away from an unblemished chest and abdomen, Dean realized the only other times he’d seen Cas this way was when he’d been carved up. The first time was when Cas had engraved an angel banishing sigil into his own chest, and the last was when he’d watched an angel blade get plunged in. It had been difficult to really pay attention to much else at the time, so Dean traced his fingers along tan skin, memorizing. Muscles flexed at his touch, and he traced up, brushing across dark nipples, finding a freckle just above one. When he kissed it, Cas’ breath caught, and he yanked back on Dean’s hair to assault his mouth with tongue and teeth.

Hands pushed the robe from Dean’s shoulders, tugged at his t-shirt until they had to separate so it could be pulled over his head. As soon as he was free, Dean worked at undoing the button of Cas’ slacks. The kissing continued, sloppy and uncoordinated as they continued to strip each other as much as they could while Cas was still sitting in Dean’s lap.

The moment Dean got his hand wrapped around Cas’ cock, the most beautiful moan escaped, and Dean licked and nibbled along Cas’ neck as he felt the girth and weight of the erection in his hand, thumbing at the precome beading at the tip.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, and it sounded like a prayer, like a benediction.

He continued down Cas’ neck, and placed his mouth everywhere he could reach. Collarbone, pectoral, nipple, sternum, Dean tasted and memorized every inch. Cas was rocking with the motion of Dean’s hand, staring down at him with a look of wonder. His motions had him grinding against Dean’s erection, and damn but it felt good... Would feel better if they could get the layers all the way off though.

As if he’d read Dean’s mind, Cas pulled away, slid off the bed, and finished stripping off the rest of his clothes. Dean gave him a wide grin as he shimmied out of his own shorts. When they were fully undressed, Cas stood by the bed, just gazing at Dean with his erection standing proud before him. It made Dean a little self-conscious to have Cas just staring at him like that, so he rolled onto his side and posed.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.”

“Dean, that doesn’t even make any sense.” Cas frowned at him, hands on his bare hips.

With a snort, Dean face-planted into a pillow. “Dude, you suddenly have a pop-culture short circuit?”

Cas perched at the edge of the bed, his brows drawn together in confusion. “I understand the movie reference, but… do you actually want me to go get paper and pencil?”

Stifling a laugh, Dean waved his hand. “No, no, no. Just… come back over here and let’s get back to what we started.”

Cas took a deep breath and said, “Dean, I… You know I’m not very experienced…”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem for me.” Dean frowned. Where was Cas going with this?

Picking at the bedspread, Cas continued. “It’s just, while I know the mechanics of two men having sex, I really have no idea what I’m doing.” He refused to look Dean in the eye, opting to stare down at where his fingers picked fuzz off the blanket.

Dean grabbed his hand to make him stop. “It’s cool, man, I think I can walk you through it.”

Looking into Dean’s eyes, Cas said, “Thank you, Dean. I have been interested in finding out how it would feel to be penetrated by you.”

Dean nearly choked on his own spit. Yeah, sure, he might’ve had a couple hangups preventing him from wanting to be the catcher, but he never thought Cas would _volunteer_ for it. He always pictured Cas being the one to be the pitcher. Not that he’d ever thought about that kind of… thing… before...

“Lemme… go get some stuff, yeah.” Dean crawled off the opposite end of the bed and went rummaging through the dresser for a couple packets of lube he snagged at that college last year. Colleges were great for picking up free stuff. What else was he going to need? He doubted he’d need a condom, because Cas. Maybe a towel?

When he turned back to the bed, he had to stop and stare at Cas who was standing again, semi-relaxed, with all that glorious skin on display. His cock was beginning to droop, but still fat and full. Dean crawled onto the bed, and walked on his knees, reaching for Cas. Cas took his hand, and allowed himself to be pulled up onto the bed, also on his knees, in front of Dean. Towel tossed near the pillows, Dean leaned in for a slow and sultry kiss, hands grasping Cas’ ass and massaging the full globes.

It didn’t take long for Cas to perk back up and get back into the swing of things, and soon they were rutting against each other’s hips. Dean slowly slid a finger down Cas’ crack, and brushed the tip against his hole. He got a gasp against his lips in response, and he smiled against Cas’ mouth as he rubbed circles around the entrance. When he felt the muscles relax, Dean let his index finger slip inside.

Cas paused for a moment, in both kissing and frotting, as Dean teased him with the one finger. He brought his mouth to Dean’s ear and whispered, “Please tell me you’re going to use more than just one finger.”

Oh, but his voice was gravelly-rough and damn _hot_. Dean reached for one of the lube packets, and tore it open. After he had some smeared on his fingers, he reached back around Cas, and worked one finger in again, getting everything all slicked up before pressing two inside. Cas jerked his hips, and let out a sharp breath. He also clamped tight around Dean’s fingers.

“You gotta relax, or you’re gonna hurt something, Cas.”

Dean didn’t want to admit that with angel powers, what might actually get hurt was Dean’s fingers, or his _cock_. When Cas relaxed, Dean rewarded him with another deep kiss, and he began scissoring his fingers, stretching Cas open. It didn’t take long before he added a third, and Cas was desperately grinding against his hip.

“Dean,” he groaned, “This feels… strangely arousing, yet frustrating at the same time. I need… more.” Cas pushed Dean backwards onto the bed, and straddled him. “I think I’m ready, Dean.” Oh, this was happening, like right then. Dean grabbed the second lube packet, and squeezed out enough to slick up his cock. It was all he could do to avoid bucking up as Cas impatiently ground down, his cock slipping along the angel’s crack.

“This was so much easier with female genitalia,” Cas growled, as he lifted up to make another go at it.

Dean held him still. “Your pillowtalk could use some work. Here, lemme help, and don’t go too fast. Take it slow.”

Hand aiming his cock, Dean guided Cas down, until he could feel the head pressing against Cas’  entrance. “Just take a deep breath, relax, and push down.”

The head of his cock popped inside the ring of muscle, and Dean groaned as the muscles contracted, trapping him. “Fuck, Cas! You gotta relax.”

“Sorry,” Cas mumbled, and he concentrated on lowering himself further.

Shit, it felt good, feeling Cas slowly impale himself. Finally Cas was sitting in Dean’s lap, and Dean could feel him twitching around his cock, trying to stay relaxed. While Cas adjusted, Dean decided to tease and flex his cock a bit, which earned him a surprised intake of breath from Cas, his body arching into a beautiful curve.

With his already lubed hand, Dean grasped Cas’ cock and gave it a couple playful tugs, slicking it up. Cas rocked with the movement, hands on Dean’s chest, and they found a rhythm which felt awesome, but wasn’t entirely satisfying. Dean bucked his hips up a bit, causing Cas to bounce, and the angel finally caught on with the program. Now, he just needed to find that one spot… Digging his heels in, Dean bent his knees and angled his hips. When Cas cried out, he knew he’d hit it.

“Dean! That!” Cas panted, mouth open, in awe at the sensation.

Dean bucked up, tagging the spot again, which had Cas throwing his head back. Remembering the first time he had found out the joys of his own prostate, Dean kept angling his hips just so as Cas slid up and down, making the most delicious sounds. It felt so damn good, and it was a bonus watching Cas enjoy himself, too. Without much warning, he felt Cas’ cock twitch and thicken, then with a hoarse cry, Cas was coming all over Dean’s stomach, his hole clenching around Dean’s cock almost painfully.

Unable to move, Dean stroked Cas through his orgasm, until he felt Cas’ hole loosen enough for movement again. Cas leaned forward, and nuzzled Dean’s cheek. “Thank you,” he growled out in satisfied tones.

“You’re welcome, Cas,” Dean replied, rocking his hips slowly again, but angling so as to not overstimulate Cas. After watching Cas come, it wouldn't take much for Dean to get there, and he grabbed the angel’s hips, lifting him up a bit more. With a grunt, Cas caught on, and started rolling his hips into it, and fuck that was _so_ doing it for Dean.

Cas kept touching him, fingertips trailing along his face, in his hair, along his sides, while Dean kept pumping up into him. Locking eyes with Cas, Dean panted, chasing his own release. What finally did it was when Cas whispered his name, and that was it. Dean’s movements became erratic as he pounded up into Cas, and came with a choked cry. He was rewarded with kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his brow, as he spilled inside of Cas.

Breathing harshly, Dean relaxed into the bed, legs splayed out, while Cas stayed seated, continuing to press soft kisses anywhere he could reach. With a satisfied smile, Dean traced the ridge of Cas’ spine, and returned a few kisses when Cas managed to wander by his mouth with his kisses. Eventually, the cooling mess on his chest and stomach caught his attention, so he grabbed the towel and mopped himself up. He felt his softened cock slip out of Cas,and handed him the towel to help clean up. Then he rolled onto his side, situating a leg between Cas’, arms wrapped around his waist.

“Was it all you thought it would be?” Dean asked with a cocky grin.

Cas searched his face, and traced the outline of Dean’s lips with a finger. “Yes, and so much more, Dean.”

Ego properly inflated, Dean settled his head into his pillow and stared at Cas through hooded eyes. “Hmm. How about a nap, and another episode of Sense8?”

“Of course, Dean. I’ll watch over you.”

As Dean closed his eyes, he thought it didn’t sound so creepy any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Finally](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410197) by [SasTMK (OutOfLuck)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfLuck/pseuds/SasTMK)




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